


Promises

by CapitalQ



Category: Vainglory (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8837740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapitalQ/pseuds/CapitalQ
Summary: It's been five years, but it's hard for Lyra to convince herself that the past is the past, especially with the new addition of Samuel to her life. Perhaps it's time for her to let go, to be free of all the burdens of her life and start anew. It's not going to be as easy as she may think, but the least she can do is try.





	

The first night pained her like no other. She tried to forget, tried to think of something other than Titus's face on the pillow next to hers in the mornings, his hair messily splayed beneath his head as he laughed at the faces Lyra would make at him when he told her it was time for him to leave, but it was all no use. He haunted her, his voice whispering unfulfilled promises softly into Lyra's ear.

Lora. Lora had ruined it all, so intent on having more Mageborn children to stand on that stuffy council of hers, dictating Lyra's every- no. She was Gythian. Lyra couldn't be swept up in all this. She could do something great for Gythia now, free of Lora's domineering politics, had been for the last five years. Trostan was hers, all hers.

And yet in fourteen years it would all be Samuel's. Lora could simply wipe Lyra's name off of the colony, smudge it just enough to make it her own, just like she had five years ago. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

Lyra took a deep breath, holding back tears, and tried to think of something else. She glanced around her chamber, making out little but the vague suggestions of the furniture she knew was there. It was messy, if only by comparison to the order she usually kept everything in.

She had broken routine by not cleaning it herself that evening, but Lyra couldn't muster up enough will to care. It was all worthless, anyway; any semblance of routine had been thrown out the window on the docks earlier. Samuel had broken everything that she had ever loved. Her dreams, her progress, her city, all gone with his coming. Lyra almost wanted to hate him, but couldn't find it within herself to do anything more than sympathize with the boy. They were both abandoned out here in some unforgiving climate, so far from their shared home.

Was it really even their home any more? Trostan was much more of a reality than Gythia had ever turned out to be for Lyra, and Samuel would most likely not even remember anything of the tall golden spires that dotted the Gythian skyline. Only Trostan held any promise for the two of them.

Lyra knew not to trust promises anymore.

The door to Lyra's chamber opened, casting flickering candlelight onto her bed. She grunted in response, nowhere close to being ladylike. Her guide spoke quietly, taking up almost the entire doorway with his large frame.

"He can't sleep."

"You and I both know that I am not his mother," Lyra replied, not taking her eyes off of the brick ceiling of her chamber.

"He's four years old."

Lyra began to speak, but held her tongue and sighed as she got out of bed and followed the Grangor to Samuel's chamber. It was much too big for the boy, the room having been prepared for someone at least five times his age. Books covered the shelves all along the chamber's walls, all of them too complex to be of use to Samuel for many years.

Samuel lay on the bed taking up a corner of the room, swallowed in sheets of imported brocade, his face pale and worried as he clutched the small doll the Grangor had advised Lyra to buy for Samuel earlier that day in the marketplace. He had named her Susanna, telling Lyra that he wanted her name to start with an S just like his. Lyra had smiled then, the first time since the docks that she had expressed anything more than a scowl. 

Lyra glanced at Susanna, sighing once more before sitting on the side of Samuel's bed. Her guide had left already, leaving the candle burning slowly on one of the shelves, Lyra's shadow cast onto the wall in front of her.

"What seems to be the matter, Samuel?"

Samuel tightened his grip on Susanna, holding her fast against his small chest.

"I miss home."

Lyra hesitantly reached out, pushing a strand of his soft, dark hair behind his ear. An awkward gesture, but at least Samuel didn't seem to mind. He wasn't all hard, sharp edges that you could cut yourself on like his mother, just... Samuel.

"This is your new home now."

"But I don't want home to be here!"

"I cannot change what your mother has arranged, but it is up to you what you make of your time here."

Confused, Samuel looked at Lyra strangely. She sighed and tried again.

"At first, I did not care much for Trostan, much like you, but I grew to enjoy it. Perhaps you shall do the same."

Samuel loosened his hold on his doll and relaxed, color returning to his face.

"O-okay," he said, his tone less strained than before, "I can do that; I promise."

"Good."

Lyra rose from Samuel's bed and took the candle, making her way to the open door. As she went through, she paused, turning back to face Samuel's wide eyes.

"Your father, did he ever... ask about me?" asked Lyra, a glimmer of hope flickering in the back of her mind.

"I don't think so."

"Oh, I... I see."

Lyra released the breath she didn't know that she had been holding.

"Goodnight Samuel."

"Goodnight Lady Lyra."

Lyra walked back to her room, blew out the candle, and lay in bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. She felt a tear rush down her cheek silently, then another. Lyra rolled onto her side and cried herself to sleep for the first time in many years.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank my friends Emily and Savannah for being my betas for this fic. I really appreciate their help with this, and thanks to you for reading this!


End file.
